#sleek and aerodynamic design

[fawnydoe]

i feel like toothless' design from the first movie struck that really great balance of intimidating and cute, in the same way that an actual animal is. i feel like dreamworks actively made this worse but consistently redesigning him to be more cute and goofy, had a good balance then made him kind of awkward by trying to lean into him being cute, making him look a little too blocky and even less practical as an animal

they also went waaayy to dog-like for the behaviors. it's just kind of strange to see him panting and bouncing around like one. i liked his more feline-like behavior in the original, aloof but still friendly

[gigivas]

1K GIGI Prompts Collections 'Red Racer: Monochrome Elegance in Motion' 5625 Free 10 pages out of 1000 pages

Get Free 10 pages MTMEVE00534G_96_0001 – 1K GIGI Prompts Collections – Red Racer, Monochrome Elegance in Motion 5625 10PagesDownload 1K GIGI Prompts Collections ‘Red Racer: Monochrome Elegance in Motion’ 5625 series provides two documents, one document is 10 pages of prompts in 1000 pages, available for free download. One document is the complete 1000 pages of prompts, this is a paid service,…

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟗 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟗 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟗 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

The 1949 Buick Roadmaster Sedanette is an iconic American automobile known for its sleek design and luxurious features. As part of Buick's top-of-the-line Roadmaster series, the Sedanette version, also known as the fastback model, featured a streamlined, coupe-like silhouette that was both stylish and aerodynamic. It was powered by Buick's Fireball straight-eight engine, providing a smooth and powerful driving experience. The 1949 model introduced significant design changes, including a wider grille, "VentiPorts" on the front fenders, and improved suspension for a more comfortable ride. Renowned for its elegance and performance, the 1949 Buick Roadmaster Sedanette remains a prized classic among car enthusiasts and collectors.

[usafphantom2]

Celebrating 60 Years of the XB-70 Valkyrie Mach 3 Super Bomber

September 16, 2024 Military Aviation

XB-70 60th anniversary

The lone XB-70 Valkyrie is photographed as it is moved to a new building at the Museum of the United States Air Force located at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, on Oct. 27, 2015. Beginning in the late 1950s and continuing through the mid-1960s, tests were conducted at Arnold Air Force Base, Tenn., headquarters of Arnold Engineering Development Complex, in support of the XB-70 program. The now-retired aircraft made its first flight on Sept. 21, 1964. (U.S. Air Force photo by Will Haas)

The experimental legacy of the iconic XB-70 Valkyrie, which made its first flight on Sept. 21, 1964.

An article published on the U.S. Air Force website commemorates the 60th anniversary of the first flight of the legendary XB-70 Valkyrie, a supersonic bomber that captured the imagination of aviation enthusiasts and engineers alike. Known for its sleek and futuristic design, the XB-70 remains a symbol of the experimental and ambitious spirit of Cold War-era aircraft development. Despite only two prototypes ever being built, the aircraft has left an indelible mark on military aviation history.

The XB-70 Valkyrie was originally conceived in the 1950s as a high-speed, high-altitude bomber for the U.S. Air Force Strategic Air Command. At a time when technological advancements were rapidly accelerating, the U.S. Air Force sought a bomber capable of flying faster and higher than the B-52 Stratofortress, its workhorse of the era (as well as the backbone of the strategic bomber fleet today and for some more decades in the future…).

With a planned cruise speed of Mach 3 and an operating altitude of 70,000 feet, the XB-70 promised to outpace and outmaneuver Soviet defenses, which were a growing concern during the Cold War.

One of the most remarkable features of the XB-70 was its ability to “ride” its own shockwave, a design innovation that allowed it to maintain stability and performance at supersonic speeds. The Valkyrie’s iconic delta wing, combined with six powerful jet engines, gave it an exotic and striking appearance, making it one of the most visually distinctive aircraft ever built. Its outer wing panels were hinged, allowing them to be lowered during flight to optimize the aerodynamic performance at high speeds.

The XB-70 looks like an alien spacecraft from this angle. (Image credit: USAF)

The article highlights the crucial role played by Arnold Engineering Development Complex (AEDC) in the development of the XB-70.

The testing of the Valkyrie’s engines, aerodynamics, and other key components began at Arnold Air Force Base in the late 1950s, well before the first prototype took shape. The AEDC’s facilities were instrumental in pushing the boundaries of what was possible in aviation at the time. One of the earliest tests involved the air-breathing engine nozzles proposed for the XB-70 in March 1958. This was followed by extensive wind tunnel testing of scale models of the Valkyrie, where the aerodynamic characteristics of bombs dropped from the aircraft were also studied.

A technician makes adjustments to a scale model of the XB-70 Valkyrie before aerodynamic characteristics related to the aircraft are evaluated in Tunnel A of the von Kármán Gas Dynamics Facility at Arnold Air Force Base, Tenn., headquarters of Arnold Engineering Development Complex, in 1959. Beginning in the late 1950s and continuing through the mid-1960s, tests were conducted at Arnold Air Force Base, Tenn., headquarters of Arnold Engineering Development Complex, in support of the XB-70 program. Only two Valkyries were built, with only one of the pair remaining. The now-retired aircraft made its first flight on Sept. 21, 1964. (U.S. Air Force photo)

Development continued into the early 1960s, with the YJ93 turbojet engines, designed specifically for the XB-70, undergoing rigorous testing at AEDC. These engines were critical to the Valkyrie’s ability to reach and maintain supersonic speeds. However, in 1961, before the first prototype was even completed, the bomber program was canceled due to budget constraints and concerns over the bomber’s vulnerability to Soviet surface-to-air missiles, which had rapidly advanced in capability.

Although the XB-70 bomber program was terminated, the Valkyrie found new life as a research aircraft.

Three drag chutes were needed to slow down the landing roll of the XB-70. (Image credit: Reddit edit The Aviationist)

The U.S. Air Force recognized the potential of the aircraft to serve in aerodynamics and propulsion research, particularly in the study of large supersonic aircraft. Consequently, two XB-70 prototypes were completed, and testing continued, including at AEDC, where a scale version of the XB-70 inlet, paired with a full-scale YJ93 engine, was tested in August 1962.

XB-70A number 1 (62-001) made its first flight from Palmdale to Edwards Air Force Base, CA, on Sept. 21, 1964. The second XB-70A (62-207) made its first flight on Jul. 17, 1965. The latter differed from the first prototype for being built with an added 5 degrees of dihedral on the wings as suggested by the NASA Ames Research Center, Moffett Field, CA, wind-tunnel studies.

North American XB-70A Valkyrie on the taxiway with a cherry picker. Photo taken Sept. 21, 1964, the day of the first flight. Note: the left main landing gear brakes locked during the landing causing two tires to blow. (U.S. Air Force photo)

While the 62-001 made only one flight above Mach 3, because of poor directional stability experienced past Mach 2.5, the second XB-70, achieved Mach 3 for the first time on Jan. 3, 1966 and successfully completed a total of nine Mach 3 flights by June on the same year.

However, the Valkyrie program suffered a devastating setback in June 1966 when the second prototype was destroyed in a midair collision with an F-104N Starfighter during a photoshoot. This tragic accident resulted in the loss of key personnel and diminished the future prospects of the Valkyrie.

North American XB-70A Valkyrie just after collision. Note the F-104 is at the forward edge of the fireball and most of both XB-70A vertical stabilizers are gone. (U.S. Air Force photo)

Despite this setback, the remaining XB-70 continued to serve as a valuable research platform. In 1967, the U.S. Air Force transferred the aircraft to NASA, where it was used in support of the National Supersonic Transport (SST) program. NASA employed the XB-70 to investigate supersonic flight operations, but the SST program was eventually canceled in 1971, marking the end of America’s efforts to develop a commercial supersonic airliner.

The XB-70 Valkyrie’s final flight took place on Feb. 4, 1969, when it was flown to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Ohio. There, the aircraft was placed on display at what is now the National Museum of the United States Air Force, where it remains a testament to the audacious engineering and design of its era.

A view of the six massive afterburners on the XB-70 Valkyrie as the aircraft is towed out of its display hangar temporarily for museum maintenance. (Photo: National Museum of the U.S. Air Force via YouTube)

Though only two XB-70s were ever built, their legacy endures: the aircraft’s pioneering advancements in aerodynamics, engine performance, and high-speed flight helped shape the future of supersonic aviation.

Pilots who were to perform the first test flights for the XB-70 Valkyrie operate the YJ93 engine, the powerplant of the XB-70, while the engine is tested under simulated flight conditions in May 1964 in the Rocket Test Facility at Arnold Air Force Base, Tenn., headquarters of Arnold Engineering Development Complex. This was done to help the pilots familiarize themselves with the performance characteristics of the engine prior to the first XB-70 flight, which occurred on Sept. 21, 1964. Beginning in the late 1950s and continuing through the mid-1960s, tests were conducted at Arnold AFB in support of the XB-70 program. Only two Valkyries were built, with only one of the pair remaining. (U.S. Air Force photo)

The first prototype made a total of 83 flights, amassing 160 hours and 16 minutes of flight time, while the second prototype completed 46 flights, totaling 92 hours and 22 minutes.

The XB-70 Valkyrie, with its daring design and groundbreaking capabilities, continues to captivate aviation enthusiasts and engineers. Its story, though short-lived in terms of operational use, highlights the relentless pursuit of innovation that defines the U.S. Air Force and its engineering partners. Sixty years after its first flight, the Valkyrie remains an iconic symbol of the bold ambitions of Cold War-era aviation.

XB-70 Night Take-off. (Photo via Air Force Materiel Command History Office)

About David Cenciotti

David Cenciotti is a journalist based in Rome, Italy. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviationist”, one of the world’s most famous and read military aviation blogs. Since 1996, he has written for major worldwide magazines, including Air Forces Monthly, Combat Aircraft, and many others, covering aviation, defense, war, industry, intelligence, crime and cyberwar. He has reported from the U.S., Europe, Australia and Syria, and flown several combat planes with different air forces. He is a former 2nd Lt. of the Italian Air Force, a private pilot and a graduate in Computer Engineering. He has written five books and contributed to many more ones.

@TheAviationist.com

[ghost-bxrd]

For the dragon rider au, what does dragon riding gear/armor usually look like? Is it lighter to allow for more aerodynamics, or heavier for more protection? Something in the middle?

Also. How big are Red and Robin?

It depends on the dragon!

Robin for example has to wear a light saddle as he’s only just big enough to carry a rider. Even more weight would severely hinder him during flight! So Tim wears well insulated clothes for the cold air further up, the safety harness, and little else in terms of armor.

The larger dragons don’t have this kind of limitation, so most of the gear/saddle design is up to their rider with the universal focus being safety and comfort.

Bruce has a rather clunky saddle on Bat with several small bags and pouches built in for various items. Bruce himself wears a rather heavy set armor (think Batsuit) that’s still comparatively light to allow for an easier time to mount and dismount his dragon.

Dick’s saddle is rather sleek with fewer pouches, allowing him to blend almost completely into Nightwing’s feathers when he wants to (great for warmth and added insulation). His gear is focused on flexibility, and he mostly opts for leather armor with a thin layer of inlaid chain mail. Not enough to keep arrows from piercing it but hypothetically enough to prevent it being a fatal injury. (He also tends to “forget” about strapping himself into the safety lines, claiming it hinders his maneuverability. This is a bold faced lie.)

The one thing all saddles and individual rider gear has in common are the safety lines that are hooked into fixed points on the saddle and can be attached and loosened to a specific harness the riders have to wear (mostly in the form of a thick and supportive band around the waist). They keep the riders safe from falling during risky air maneuvers.

As for a size comparison here’s a rough comparison chart! You can find more in the Digital Art tag on this blog 💚

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Hello : )

What is the best dragon depiction you ever saw? Why did you like it?

honestly, it's gonna sound so typical of me, but while most of the How to Train Your Dragon designs are more about wacky aesthetics than functionality, I think the night/light fury design is just outstanding. they could use a little extra patagium, maybe, that little membrane on the upper arm. I could nitpick on the pointy-ness of the wing fingers on Toothless. but the design itself is wonderfully sleek, the wings look genuinely functional in comparison to the body size and there are functional tail fins too! which is cool!

(image description: the night and light fury dragons from How to Train Your Dragon, flying together in front of a bright sky.)

I also appreciate the unique details here. like, they do have bat-like wings, but they have no wing thumb and there are six fingers instead of five. Their heads are a very aerodynamic shape and they don't suffer from excessive spikes for the sake of having extra spikes. I can truly believe that these creatures are capable of flight! look how far along the body that wing membrane stretches! the light fury especially just looks so sleek. they're good dragon designs!

I also was the sort of kid who had the dragonology book, and looking back at their designs I can easily point out some anatomical issues, but I love how in depth it goes to explain the dragons and all their different types. and I think it's the only place I've ever seen a marsupial dragon, which I adore.

(image description: photo of a book page from Dragonology, showing a marsupial dragon and a few paragraphs explaining its origin and anatomy. it looks like a reptilian kangaroo with small wings. end description.)

I mean that's pretty cool. it's pretty obviously just "what if kangaroo was dragon", but you really can't get a better body plan than kangaroos when it comes to being a bipedal marsupial. and a marsupial reptile would be very cool!! I love it and I want more dragons to explore unique ideas like this.

[planesawesome]

What is the top speed of an F-15 Eagle?

The top speed of an F-15 Eagle is typically quoted as being around Mach 2.5 to Mach 2.9, which is approximately 1,800 to 2,000 mph (2,900 to 3,200 km/h). However, it's worth noting that the actual top speed of an F-15 can vary depending on a number of factors, such as the specific model and configuration of the aircraft, the altitude at which it is flying, and the level of thrust being produced by its engines.

In general, the F-15 is capable of reaching extremely high speeds, and is one of the fastest jet fighters in the world. Its high-speed capabilities are due in part to its powerful engines, which produce a combined thrust of over 28,000 pounds (12,700 kilograms), as well as its sleek and aerodynamically optimized design.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 9!

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, implications of murder.

You twitch your toes, waiting till there's a knock on your door.

Blinking, you open it carefully, trying not to fiddle with your fingers as the anxiety threatens to overwhelm you.

"Thank you for this." You say, looking up at Billy, before looking away.

He's dressed in his work clothes- suit and tie, looking at you so carefully that you feel like he can see so much more of you that you'd care to admit.

"I'm glad you called." Billy says, voice low, taking a step back to let you lock up, "Didn't like the idea of you trying to go down there alone."

You let out a dry laugh.

"I tried, but I just couldn't do it." You say to him.

"You look like you haven't slept." His voice is gentle, like a welcome hand on your back, rubbing circles to calm you.

You smile sadly at him.

"I haven't- I- I can't-"

"It's okay, we'll figure it out." Billy says, reassuring you that nothing you're going through is abnormal in any way.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you." You say, trying to express your earnesty, glad to have someone as understanding as him with you.

His car is... sublime.

Gorgeous, sleek in its aerodynamic design.

You're not too familiar with car models, but you catch the BMW logo on the front of the black car, smiling as he opens the passenger door for you.

You settle yourself in, admiring the supple interior, and the simplicity of it.

"Honestly, this is not what I thought you drove." You confess to him when he climbs into the car.

The engine absolutely purrs to live, revving beautifully, tingling your eardrums with the low sound.

"What did you think I drove?" Billy asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

It suddenly made you aware that you may have been about to tell him you thought he was extravagant.

"Okay, I just realised what I thought you drove made zero sense and I would like to retract my comment."

He grins at you, deviousness leeching out of his every pore. It makes you simmer with delight.

"No way, tell me."

"Well, I thought someone like you- CEO of a company that is- drove what other CEOs of companies tend to drive."

"An Aston? Lamborghini? Ferrari?"

"All of the above?" You supply with a light hint of an apology in your tone.

He laughs, and the sound is nothing short of divine. You wanted to memorize the funniest jokes just to hear him laugh again.

"I'm not that ostentatious. I run a security company, being unseen is my ally, and luxury cars like that are just impractical."

"I guess that makes sense." You mumble, deep in thought.

"But I have to admit that I did buy a Royce the first year my company lifted off."

"Of course you did." You tease lightly, with no malicious intent behind your words.

He gives you a little lift of his shoulder.

"It's the little things sometimes."

How easy talking to him was, so very dangerous in so many ways, you were always just two steps shy of flirting with him. He made talking to him so simple, made you forget about ever being anxious in the first place.

You were definitely in trouble.

.

"That's it?" You asked when the officer returns your bag to you, informing you that the items were left behind when the suspects realised they were being chased.

"What about my jewellery?" You ask, heart squeezing in your chest.

She gives you an apologetic shake of her head.

"Jewellery is usually a lot harder to recover, it might have already been pawned off. We'll keep an eye out, but I wouldn't get my hopes up."

Your heart sinks. You nod, thanking her before turning and walking back to a waiting Billy.

"I got my laptop and wallet back." You murmur, avoiding his dark eyes, trying very hard not to cry in front of your boss.

"That's everything?" He asks, "Do you want to go home?"

You swallow, nodding quickly and walking past him.

You hold this awful, rotten feeling inside of you all the way back to his car, but when you get in, and you close the door, the tears refuse to be ignored any longer.

Billy says your name with concern when he notices you crying.

You let out a shaky sob.

"I'm sorry." You whimper, pressing your face into your hands to hide from him as you weep pathetically.

It takes all of a second before he's pulling you against him, your bodies at an odd angle to allow you to fit against each other with the centre console of the car in the way.

"What is it?" He asks, "What's wrong?"

You lean against him, hands gripping at his bicep in an attempt to pull comfort from him.

"I knew the odds of getting the necklace back but I was hoping it wouldn't be true." You start, reaching into your bag and finding your packet of tissues hidden in the lining.

"I just- I know it's not that important in the scheme of things but-" you sigh, "-I really loved that necklace."

"It is important. If you loved it, then it's important. Don't lose hope, you can still get it back." Billy tries to soothe, his warm breath on your cheek, so maddeningly close.

You cry against him a little bit more.

"It just made me feel safe. After- after every terrible thing that happened. It made me feel like I was being protected by something much bigger than myself. But-" You shudder out a sad breath, "-not even that is true."

His arms tighten around you.

.

He wants to make so many promises to you in that moment.

Billy wants to promise that he'll do everything he can to keep you safe, that he's here no matter what. He breathes in your scent and squeezes his eyes shut and hates that he'd given someone the opportunity to lay their hands on you.

His sweet girl didn't deserve this, and Billy was going to do everything in his power to get you that necklace back.

You were his to protect, above all else.

.

You fall asleep on the drive back to your place, a sudden bout of traffic turning the ten minute drive into thirty minutes.

There's just something about being around him, that slows every rushing thought in your head, you find yourself so relaxed in his presence and before you know it, you're asleep in minutes. The events of the last two days have taken a toll, and you sleep so deeply that you don't register a single thing.

You don't wake, not even when he picks you up, scooping you into his arms so easily that you would be amazed if you weren't asleep.

He places you in bed, tugging your shoes off, before dimming the lights.

You only truly wake up, when you hear your bedroom door open, an indication that he was leaving.

"Billy." You call out for him, fighting to sit up, rubbing one eye to regain your focus.

He's paused at the door, looking back at you.

"Can you stay a little longer? Just until I get to sleep?" You let out a little sigh, "I've asked a lot of you already, so you can say no, I won't hold it against you. But I just-"

"I get it." Billy says, interrupting. He turns from the door, moving confidently to your bed, and carefully placing himself on top.

It's kind of hilarious, he's still in his finely pressed work shirt and pants, having shed his jacket and tie at some unobservable point. If you were more comfortable with him, you would have insisted that he change before lying beside you.

But your level of exhaustion is too great to worry about anything, not lying in bed beside your boss, and definitely not moving closer to him till you're almost touching but not exactly.

You look up at him with sleepy eyes, and he carefully raises a hand to your cheek to brush some of your hair out of your face.

"Thank you." You murmur, taking his hand in yours, pressing the warm appendage to your chilled cheek.

You can't help it in your sleepy state, curling closer to him, head resting in the crook of his arm.

"Just five minutes," you try to reason with him as if he's protesting in any kind of way, "Just until I get to sleep."

"I'm here." He says softly, as you drift off in the depths of his scent.

.

He stays for an hour after you fall asleep, trying very hard to talk himself into getting up and leaving.

It's just that you look so at peace, your head resting on his bicep that is half asleep with the loss of circulation.

The beast purrs, subdued, inside of him, eager to look at you, and be near to you, though he knows he shouldn't stay.

He's not taking advantage, he doesn't want you to even think he was capable. Billy has spent years curating a steady hand on his self control, only to have you rip right through it like its paper in five minutes with your bare hands and a sweet smile.

What would an eternity of this feel like? He wonders. How often would he find himself lost in your strawberry scent if he could?

His mouth waters.

He shudders in a deep breath.

You hum, drawing closer to him, he swallows when your palm connects with his clothed chest.

His eyes fall on the scratches at your neck, he tilts his head, studying it with careful eyes. He memorises the look of them, the way they make him feel. He latches onto the emotion, plants a seed of rage inside himself, watered by the beast's thirst for retribution.

Someone had dared to hurt you, and thought they were capable of getting away with it.

Billy needed to send a message.

One that would not be misunderstood.

.

You wake up alone.

Groaning angrily after a night of such peaceful sleep only to wake up and realized that he'd left just like you'd asked him to.

Was it too much to wish that he'd stayed? That he couldn't help himself and fell asleep beside you?

Of course it was, and it was a very dangerous, no good thought.

He was your boss, he was in control of your salary, you shouldn't be pining over him like some lovesick puppy.

The lines between personal and professional had been painfully blurred since the moment you'd started working for him, maybe even before, and yet still you wished it would blur farther.

What would waking up next to him be like? Hell, what would seeing him asleep be like? Would the harsh lines of his face soften till you couldn't tell his age? Would he make little sounds as he slept?

And then the scariest thought of all comes to mind.

Did he even want that with you?

Probably not, considering that he's left your 'Thank you again for last night' text on fucking read.

It was worse than not reading it. It had been hours since the read receipt was activated and yet still, he hadn't responded.

Maybe he was busy, you try to not let it get to you, deciding to go through your laptop and see if anything was tampered with in the meantime.

You still find difficulty in leaving your apartment. You try for hours, sitting at your open front door in an attempt to get used to the idea of it.

Everytime you try to leave your heart starts racing, your body shakes, all you can think about is what terrible fate would befall you next.

Thankfully, after a quick call to your therapist, she suggests starting smaller, with an open window.

It's how you end up on your balcony, sitting next to Dani's gift, soaking in the sunlight.

This was nice, this was good, outside was not something to be scared of.

But facing Billy's home- just reminded you of him.

Still left on read, you drop your phone angrily.

What did you want? A romantic relationship with him? That wasn't sustainable at all. You should definitely just avoid him, the way he was no doubt avoiding you.

Your hand spreads over your bare throat and you let out a sad sigh.

You wished you could feel safe again.

When night comes, you can't sleep once more. There's no Billy here to put you at ease, nothing to make you feel safe and warm and protected. The worries in your head are too loud, there's an agony to not being able to relax in your own home.

Amy is sympathetic to your plight, staying on the phone with you as long as possible until she inevitably falls asleep, and you're left alone once more with a world of thoughts.

You hadn't gotten any other type of communication from whoever had taken that photo of you. Had they given up? Or lost you after you changed both your address and your job?

Something in the back of your head, maybe fear, or just past experience, told you that things probably wouldn't be over that easily.

A sound catches your attention, as you gaze off into your room deep in thought, echoing through the apartment before it reaches you.

You raise your head, your heart pounding as you realise it's coming from the front door.

Was someone trying to break in? You reach for your phone, trying to be as quiet as possible as you climb off your bed.

Who should you call? Billy? No, it was 2am you should see what it was first.

As you get closer, you register that it sounds like soft scratching, a very strange sound for a potential thief to be making.

"Hello?" You call through the door, perplexed at the sound.

When there's a low rumble back at you, you take a deep breath and unlock the door quickly, pulling it open with a rush.

You squeak in surprise.

Midnight black fur, golden brown eyes looking up at you.

The panther, sitting patiently at your door.

"What the hell?" You say in disbelief, taking a step back, hands covering your mouth in shock.

There was a large beast sitting at your door.

The panther, somehow taking this as an invitation, stands, and walks slowly toward you.

You can't believe it, was this a prank or had you gone insane? How had a dangerous animal of this size gotten into your apartment building in the first place?

You step backwards as it approaches, taking slow steps as if it's somehow trying to put you at ease.

Your body smacks into the side of your couch and you stiffen as it gets close enough to touch you.

A soft head bumps against your thigh, your mouth parts with shock at the greeting.

There's a little purring sound it makes as it rubs its head over your thigh gently, eerily similar to what it did the last time you encountered it.

Last time...

Before it had saved you from a knife wielding serial killer.

"It's you." You say, in absolute surprise, your body building a strange cocktail of shock and calm inside of you.

The panther rumbles in something akin to agreement as if to say, 'yes, hello again.'

You reach for the large cat, shaky hands smoothing into the butter soft fur on its head, after a moment, when you realise there's no immediate threat, you let out a laugh of surprise.

It closes its eyes, nuzzling easily into your palms.

"Hey pretty boy." You murmur eagerly, speaking to him in a light tone that you can tell he loves based on the way he continues to purr, a deep vibration against your palms as you bring your face closer to his to rub your head against his affectionately.

He pulls away after a second, and you watch with an open mouth as he casually walks his way deeper into your aparment.

You move to follow before remembering that your front door is still open.

After hastily shutting your front door, you follow after where you saw him last, finding that your bedroom door has been pushed open at the end of your hallway.

There you find the large predator, lying on your bed.

You approach a little cautiously, very confused about what was going on.

He drops his head, and from his mouth, something shiny and gold falls onto your bedsheets.

The panther looks up at you eagerly as you move closer to investigate.

It was your necklace.

You gasp, reaching for it, picking it up to examine the little pendant eagerly, a little symbol of the large beast in front of you, dangling from a delicate gold chain.

You don't hesitate, clasping it around your neck excitedly before moving to your little vanity to examine yourself in the mirror.

The panther had brought your necklace back.

The panther... was in the city with you.

You turn to study the predator on your bed, and it looks back at you in kind, its tail twitching in what you assume is contentment on your bed.

How had this panther gotten all this way without being caught? Had someone trained it to bring this to you?

You tilt your head, and blink in astonishment when the panther also tilts its head to mimic you. When you straighten your head, it does the same.

You didn't think this was just another trained animal, there was something in its eyes, an understanding that you weren't familiar with.

You were probably going crazy, hallucinating, or maybe this was a dream.

You look down, counting your fingers. Not a dream.

This was real.

There was a real panther in your bed.

Or was it?

"Can you... understand me?" You ask, almost absurdly to the animal.

Its answer is to flop onto its side with a big huff.

"Is that a yes?"

Another huff of breath.

You approach the beast slowly, sitting at the edge of your bed, reaching out to touch one big paw, its fur so soft you're almost addicted to the way it feels.

"You're..... not.... jut a panther are you?"

A flick of its tail, the flex of its paw to show off the very sharp claws hidden between toes. You retract your hand at the sight of such a deadly appendage.

"Are you... also a human?" You ask, aware of how certifiably insane you sounded.

What other explaination was there? How had a panther brought you back a necklace? How had it known how to get to you?

The beast takes a deep breath, letting out another sharp huff.

You gaze away for a long time, your brain scrambled with too many thoughts, too many rushing ideas and reactions.

After a second you look back into its golden eyes.

"That was a yes?"

A huff.

You gulp, turning away, sitting at the edge of the bed trying to process the information given to you.

Shapeshifters? Shapeshifters were a thing?

"Oh god." You say, almost sick to your stomach at the implication.

As if it senses your distress, the panther crawls closer, and rests its large head onto your lap. Automatically, you raise a hand to stroke its head. Almost immediately, an arrangement of soft purring starts up, its eyes closing easily..

You can't help smiling, hands roaming over its ears, watching them with amusement as they flicker and twitch.

"You're kind of cute." You say to it- to him.

His response is to let out a soft sigh.

You observe him, admiring the way he looks, eyes drawn to the peek of teeth jutting out from his mouth.

"You're kind of scary too."

He peeks an eye open to look at you.

"Will you show me who you are?" You ask.

It's the wrong thing to say, because the panther's response is to pull away from you.

He stands on your bed, giving you his back and lying down facing away from you.

"Message received." You mumble.

You sit and stare at his back, raising your hand to touch the pendant around your neck, thinking quietly about everything.

The situation is absurd, beyond that even, there's no words to describe what you're going through. You can't seem to figure out why you're so calm, as if there was a puzzle piece in your head that has always been there, but just sitting in the wrong spot.

Now, things are just clicking into place, making more and more sense, but also showing you a side of the world that you didn't even know existed.

You feel your body overheat with the amount of thinking you're doing, you're not sure how you can even continue to exist with this knowledge-

You don't even realise you're unable to breathe until you wheeze out a gasp.

The panther, hearing just a single sound of distress, turns to face you quickly.

The bed dips as he stands and approaches.

"It's a lot." You whisper, looking up at the predator, tears blurring your vision.

His furry head bumps your cheek, an attempt to soothe you through your little freak out.

You feel him nudge you into a reclined position, and you let him, because you're too caught up in your shock to process anything really happening around you.

The panther grips your duvet in his teeth, and pulls it up till it covers your shoulders.

Slipping under it beside you, you study your hands intently, your focus.only breaking when he pops his furry head as close to your face as possible without touching.

You pause your self destructive thinking to study him, hand automatically trailing from the top of his head down his back.

It calms you, and after a few moments like that, you suck in an easy breath.

"You saved my life." You say to him, watching his ear twitch as you glide your hands over them. He doesn't react, merely looking at you while you're deep in thought.

You rest beside him, eyes drooping involuntarily, trying to stay awake and memorise the look of this animal in your bed with every sense you can.

"Thank you." Is the last thing you whisper quietly, voice just above a whisper, burying your head into his neck, admiring the silky feeling of fur on your cheek as you drift off right to sleep.

When you wake up in the morning, you almost think it was all a dream. That is, until you raise a hand to your neck, and you feel the warm gold necklace dangling from your neck.

Maybe you weren't as unprotected as you thought.

.

.

.

[mynamesaplant]

Morning Light at the End of the Line

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Summary: Elesa is woken up way too early for an excursion into the train yard, but Emmet and Ingo drag her along anyway. Their adventure leads to a revelation for the twins.

I want to say thank you to @critterbitter for all their amazing takes on SUBMAS (you keep doing you, champ) and to @ingo-ingoing-ingone for beta reading my work (thanks for all the encouragement, Blue). You're both amazing and I cannot thank you enough.

Slight disclaimer: I have a character using neopronouns, my first one ever, and while I'm familiar with them, I've never used them in a fanfic before. If I used them incorrectly, let me know in the reblogs or comments.

Don't like to read on Tumblr? Read it here on AO3!

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The day that Emmet and Ingo learned that Elesa had never been to the railyard, they were almost insulted. Frankly, this knowledge was unacceptable to the twins. Between their uncle and all the adults working in the yard, everyone had begged them to remain on the platform to spot trains. However, they were at the yard almost daily, a small notebook shared between them that cataloged every train they had seen down to the make, model, and specs of the trains they would watch with dreamy-eyed wonder.

Although neither twin would be willing to admit it aloud, they had their favorites. Ingo was a lover of the classics; he found all the moving mechanisms and billowing white smoke from steam engines to be the pinnacle of train design. Heisler locomotives were his personal favorite – they just had so much more personality in his humble opinion, their movement so musical between the clanging bell and the tack-tack-tack of the wheels and coupling rods, and the iconic star on the nose. Although they appeared much more infrequently than Emmet’s personal favorite, the Gensis models, Ingo never failed to emit a longing sigh when those steam locomotives sat in the yard. So close, and yet so far.

The Gensis locomotives were designed with passengers in mind, smooth and aerodynamic to get the occupants to their destinations with ease and comfort (well, more aerodynamic than earlier styles of locomotives, but not nearly as efficient as the bullet trains of Kanto and Johto). Their sleek metallic shells accented with different colors were frequently dotting the yard as they arrived from all over Unova for repair. Emmet thought it was a slick-looking engine and, although he respected his brother’s (wrong) opinions, nothing could hold a candle to the power and beauty of the Genesis models.

Elesa was completely oblivious to the wonderful world of trains and that was a fact that had to be rectified quickly. That was why they had her up so early, dragging a bleary-eyed Elesa by the wrists through the sleepy streets of a pre-dawn Anville Town. They were going to introduce her to their second love: trains.

“How are you even awaaaaaake?”

Elesa whined, Blitzle nudging his shoulder into her hip to keep her balance while the trio walked to parts unknown. This must have been what a zombie felt like; all of Elesa’s post-apocalypse books always described them as driven around by forces beyond anyone’s reckoning. That was essentially the twins to her. Her question was directed to Ingo, who looked about as bright-eyed and bushy tailed as an Emolga.

Ingo was not a morning person in any sense of the word. The whole region could be in mortal peril and Ingo could (and would) sleep right through it if it was early enough. There were only two things that could get him out of bed this early: Pokémon and trains.

“Who’s to say that I even went to bed?”

“Yep yep. Can confirm. He did not go to sleep.”

There was a fine line between early-early morning and late-late night; it was almost indistinguishable, but very important. Ingo knew he was going to feel awful that evening and would still end up staying awake until three or four in the morning because he was like a Noctowl and he just couldn’t help himself. He knew it drove Drayden a little crazy; that and his newly developing caffeine habits that his uncle had to curb by changing all the coffee in the house to decaf, so Ingo didn’t find himself cripplingly addicted to coffee at the tender age of eleven.

“Where are we going?”

Elesa failed to suppress a yawn, dragging one eye open to get a sense of direction only to find it too dark to really make such a determination.

“Our destination is a secret. You even saved us the trouble of blindfolding you to ensure confidentiality.”

Their friend’s groan was drawn out and miserable, but she allowed them to tow her to the train yard with the full confidence that they would not allow anything to happen to her. Elesa couldn’t find herself in safer hands.

Once the threshold between town and yard had been crossed, two things happened: first, was the heat radiating off the trains like they were so many massive Fire-types, and the second, was the immediate uptick in volume that seemed to hit the trio like a wall of bricks. Perhaps because they lived in Anville Town, they had grown accustomed to the ambient noise, that it only stood out to them once they got within distance.

People and Pokémon bustled to and fro, the screech of steel as the trains began to move along the maze of tracks, conductors yelling confirmations to one another, shrill whistles and booming horns that signaled that the day was starting.

One engineer and conductor duo instantly spotted them, and the conductor was quick to bustle over and try to shoo them away. The engineer was soon to join him.

“Boys, please, I’m begging you to go to the concourse and watch the trains from there.”

“Salutations Mr. Rinehart,” Ingo chirped, no malicious or devious intent in his tone. “Unfortunately, we must decline your request. We shall exhibit the utmost caution while traversing the yard if that is your concern.”

Mr. Rhinehart, a tall, lanky man in his mid-forties, looked visibly pained as he attempted to impede their progress. He, like all the other rail yard workers, really liked Emmet and Ingo. Their enthusiasm for trains was so refreshing after a long day. Mr. Rhinehart and his husband, his engineer who was grinning at the two boys with an amused glitter in his eyes, could personally attest to that, because they had been on the receiving end of the twins fanatical cheering and adoration after a long day on the job. It was truly a wonderful experience to be so admired by young people.

“Micha,” his spouse hissed to him, Mr. Rhinehart having to crane his neck to look down at the love of his life, and immediately regretted his choice because his husband was looking up at him with those gorgeous Lillipup eyes that he could never deny. “Let them explore. They’re good kids, they’re going to be careful – right?”

The emphatic nods did not soothe Mr. Rhinehart.

“Mr. Emerson is right! Yup! I am Emmet, we promise to be verrrry careful.”

Micha Rhinehart wanted to believe them, but he could also imagine Drayden Gray’s meaty arms placing him in a triangle chokehold if a single thing happened to his nephews and he found out that he had allowed them to wander the yard unattended. Not that Eli would allow that to happen to him, but he couldn’t banish the image from his eyes.

Eli gestured for his husband to turn and lean down so he could whisper in his ear,

“They’re old enough. I trust them to be careful. You trust me, right?”

“But Drayden-”

“Drayden doesn’t put enough faith in them.” Micha’s spouse scoffs, rolling his eyes with exacerbation. “Remember when Dakota started taking the trains to Castelia for school? Remember how worried we were for them in that big city? We had to trust them, and they came out a more independent person for it.” The harsher tone softened at the mention of their child.

“Dakota is significantly older than them.”

Micha folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his dark eyes down at Eli. That earned a contemplative scratch of the purple-hued scruff that shaded Eli’s broad cheeks, he glanced over his shoulder at the trio.

“I have a compromise.” Eli did not even confer with his husband before turning on his heel. “You’ve all met our Dakota, right?” This earned more nods. “Dakota has class today, so they’ll be here soon to catch the train to Castelia. I’m going to ask them if they’ll escort you around the more er… Child-unfriendly part of the yard. By that time, it’ll be light out, so me and Mr. Rhinehart are going to trust you to move around the yard.”

The sparkle in the two boys’ eyes was so endearing, the girl tried to look just as enthusiastic, but Eli could tell she was tired. Micha was quick to interject his own two cents before the kids retreated.

“I want you all to promise that you’ll stick close together, and that you’ll be respectful of all the rail workers and that you’ll stay out of their way as they work.”

Emmet and Ingo looked horrified at the mere suggestion that they interrupt the important work going on in the yard. They looked at each other, then to Elesa (who just offered a yawn and a promise to Mr. Rhinehart), before returning their gray eyes to the conductor and engineer.

“We would not dream of it, Mr. Rhinehart. We promise to be on our very best behavior!”

“Yup! Verrrrrry best behavior!”

His twin reiterated with the bobbling nod that looked more like those novelty big-headed figurines you would get from the sports arenas in Nimbasa. Micha had to stifle a little laugh at the sight.

“Good.” He seemed satisfied with their responses. “Now, please, for the love of Kyurem, please go up to the concourse and wait there.”

The two boys offered a salute, something that felt very reminiscent of both their training in Gear Station, and they were about to drag their friend off, before Mr. Emerson called them back. The engineer not so surreptitiously stuffed a few crumpled dollars into their hands. He told them to get some breakfast before sending them off and smiling as they scampered away.

“You’re such a softie.”

Micha said behind him, shaking his head at Eli as he turned around to offer his husband a sheepish smile.

“I can be. Would you be a dear and call our offspring to tell them to get here a little earlier?”

“Oh no,” Micha said, reflexively averting his gaze from Eli before he got the Lillipup look full on, “This was your idea. You can call Dakota.”

“So cruel to me.”

The engineer whined but accepted his fate with a reedy cackle.

----------------------

Dakota was half asleep taking the call from their dad, but they said they would be there early to take the kids around the yard. They tried not to grumble about it; Emmet and Ingo had been rather helpful to them recently when Dakota had caught quite the unruly Purrloin that had been following after them in Castelia The Pokémon kept singling them out to steal their possessions and Dakota had become fed up with it. Although they were not so adept with Pokémon, the twins had been invaluable resources to them as they trained Lin.

Why Lin?

Emmet had referred to the Purrloin as a “little delinquent” under his breath when she had pilfered a not so insignificant number of shiny coins from his bag that constituted the last of his allowance. The utterance had made Dakota snort with laughter, draped over the counter, and wheezing out an apology for the small menace they called their very own Pokémon.

The kids were in the concourse waiting for Dakota at a table in front of a 24-hour café that was mandatory for a place like this, if not for the occasional passengers, then for all the yard workers. Coffee was a ubiquitous need here in the yard, but Dakota could not say the same for eleven-year-old Ingo who was nursing a pale cup of joe that smelled more of hazelnut than coffee beans. Their poor friend Elesa looked just as tired as Dakota felt, a half-eaten bagel with lox and a small cup of green tea in front of her as she slowly tipped toward the table. Emmet was sneering at her sandwich across the table, probably because of the raw fish Dakota figured, and munched on his own torn-to-shreds bagel, dipping and swirling the chunk in a small container of butter before popping it into his mouth.

“Ah! Salutations, Dakota!”

Ingo leapt from his seat upon spotting them, lurching toward Dakota to interrogate them about their Pokémon, their schooling, their train commute, their job at the Poké Mart, and about the routes Dakota intended to take them on for their adventure through the yard. They tried to round out their shoulders as they were currently residing closer to Dakota’s ears than their natural resting position and they took a deep, clarifying breath. They had to remember that Ingo was just an excited child and not a judgy extended-family member.

Dakota offered him a smile, hands tucked into the pockets of their jacket while chatting. Lin was good, but still stealing – although that was in her nature. School was fine, CCA (Castelia College of the Arts) was a cramped campus, but the programs were amazing. The commute was okay, Dakota was always a little stressed about missing the connection in Gear Station running from the Brown to Pink line. The idea of crossing a desert to make it on time to pottery class if they missed their train did not sound too appealing to them. Work was the same. The route was already preplanned for them; their dads had given them a strict map and Dakota did not plan on deviating from the path.

They decided that it was worth waking up so early when they saw the twins’ eyes brimming with fascination and wonder. They were mere inches from the engines, studying every contour and detail with such intensity that Dakota had to gently pull them away and lead them to the turntable where a worker that they knew was waiting.

Parker and zer agile partner, Mienshao, were in the operating booth, pulling levers to usher each engine into the roundhouse after a long day of operation, just like a Wooloo herder. A pink-streaked engine was idling as the table was occupied by a similar engine that was streaked red. Dakota’s arm extended and the kids obediently stopped, waiting patiently alongside their tour guide so they could speak to Parker. Ze had definitely taken notice of the little group, peering at them curiously, zer Mienshao copying his trainer.

With the red line train slotted into its usual spot, Dakota watched zem pick up a radio, zer eyes flitting to the engine to let the engineer that ze needed a moment. A moment later, Parker was strolling out with Mienshao by zer side and zer hands tucked into the pockets of zer overalls.

“Dakota! Don’t usually see you out and about this early. Looking for your folks?” Whatever interest that Parker had for the gaggle of children in their wake, ze waited until Dakota explained rather than diving into an interrogation. Scratching the patchy facial hair that adorned zer face, ze listened to first Dakota’s then the kids’ stories. “Cool. We love trains, too… Say, we have to put a few more trains into the house, wanna watch from the booth with us?”

The eyes of the two boys, Emmet and Ingo as ze had come to find out, somehow grew larger and neither seemed able to verbalize, just offering emphatic nods that made Parker chuckle.

“Thanks, Parker.”

Dakota said in an undertone, offering a half-smile to zem as Emmet and Ingo bolted inside, mentally photographing every centimeter of the booth as if they were going to be tested on it later. Parker winked in reply, offering zer own smile as ze ushered the gaggle of young people inside. The two boys watched over the console, shifting their eyes between Parker and the smudgy outline of the engineer in the cab.

They seemed to know every call that Parker made over their radio and each motion performed by the engineer. Elesa seemed more interested in Parker’s eccentric jewelry and hair beads; she complimented zem quietly when the engine started rolling into the house. With a flick of zer head just to show off the colorful beads, Parker thanked Elesa, flashing her a warm smile before turning zer attention to Emmet and Ingo, who stood by anxiously, near bursting with questions.

Parker had only ever heard about the twins through the grapevine; ze found the brothers enthusiastic and answered all their questions with the kind of patience developed over the lifetime of someone who had dealt with many children who were chock full of questions. They reminded zem of zer kids, all six of whom were displayed in a photo worn by sun and dust that was taped to the bottom corner of the glass windowpane along with pictures of all the other operator’s families.

Ingo’s second question was actually about the row of photos, Parker swiveling in zer chair to point at each of zer kids in turn.

“Tasha, Stavon, Dominique – we call her NeNe for short – Dion, Jalin, and Kamer – Oh, wait, Kiara. We’re still getting used to Kiara’s name change.”

“Oh! She settled on ‘Kiara’, then. I knew she was trying out a bunch of different ones.”

Dakota slid their phone from their pocket, tapping on the contacts as Parker confirmed that indeed Kiara seemed quite happy with her name. They changed the contact and sent their friend a few Drifloon and streamer emojis in celebration. She must have made her decision last night, after agonizing about it for three weeks.

“We don’t think it was an easy decision, she wanted it to be right for her.” Parker replied sagely. Ze knew from experience that being certain was important for someone as they wrestled with identity. “Would you guys be okay with us taking a picture? We don’t get many visitors, especially none as enthusiastic as you two, and we want to commemorate it.”

“Oh, yes! It would be quite the honor!”

Ingo beamed, his hands flapping in front of him in his excitement just before he felt Emmet tap his shoulder. His twin was nervously tugging on his pant leg and fiddling with the hinge on Tynamo’s ball – Dakota had asked them to stow their Pokémon away in the busy yard, which all three kids complied with. Ingo leaned close to Emmet, his voice soft and restraining the hope of the request that he was too nervous to ask Parker himself.

“Um, Parker,” ze had asked the kids to forgo any particular title and to just call zem ‘Parker’. “May we… May Emmet-” Ingo felt an elbow connect with his ribs and he shot a disapproving look to his twin, who looked at him pointedly. He could tell Ingo wanted to sit up there too, but he also knew his brother didn’t want to press his luck by asking if they both could. “Ahem – may we sit in your chair?”

For Parker’s part, ze arose from the operator’s chair and crouched down before them, zer expression gentle as ze looked first to Ingo and then more directly at Emmet. Ze did not take offense when neither made direct eye contact, they reminded Parker of zer NeNe, and ze knew to take it slowly and carefully with them.

“You may, but may we hear it from both of you? We know it can be hard to talk to new people, but we promise to patient, so there’s no need to be nervous, okay?”

Emmet shifted on his feet, toeing the stained laminate they stood on, and plucking his pant leg uneasily. He offered Parker a stiff nod. Swallowing hard and raising his eyes to a point just over zer head, the commitment of actually locking gaze was a little too overwhelming to consider at the moment.

“Ca-Can we…” He trailed off before taking a deep breath and saying far too fast, “Canwesitupthere?” Another breath. “Can we sit?”

He indicated where with a jerk of his head and he breathed a sigh of relief when Parker nodded. The boys clambered up onto the chair, their eyes reflecting all the glowing lights on the panel before them. Emmet’s fingers delicately caressed a worn handle of a switch, exhibiting excessive care to make sure the machine remained undamaged by his novice hands. Beside him, Ingo looked just as reverent, tracing the bumps and ridges that were each flashing diode like it was intricate braille that only he could understand by mere touch.

“Thank you,” Emmet murmured, the burn of tears stinging his eyes as all his emotions began to consume him.

He was so happy, but so overwhelmed. He swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, sniffling to prevent the trickle of snot from getting on the panel.

Dakota was glad they snapped a picture of the duo at the panel before Emmet started crying.

----------------------

When Emmet had calmed down, his brother taking him to the side and murmuring in his ear with Emmet taking in gasping breaths, Parker offered them the opportunity to board a train that would be heading out within the hour.

“Finn should be starting her checklist, but we’re sure she wouldn’t mind showing you the inside.”

“F-Finn?” Dakota squeaked, their calm and collected demeanor vaporizing at the mention of the name, but only Elesa seemed to notice. “I, uh, didn’t realize that she was promoted.”

Parker nodded, shooting a squirming Dakota a knowing smile.

“Ms. O’Finnegan got promoted a few weeks ago.”

“That’s… C-Cool!”

Dakota, unable to take Parker’s look, quickly ushered the three kids out and towards the parked trains in the house. Finn was not hard to find, her shock of curly, red hair stood out in the dingy interior of the roundhouse, and she had a smile as bright as the sun that was directed at a flustered Dakota.

“Kota!” She bound toward them and scooped them up into a tight Bewear hug, this earned a squeak from them. “It’s been an age!”

“I-I’ve been busy with school.”

The kids temporarily forgotten about, Dakota tried to avoid her eyes, a mossy, amused hazel color that Dakota frequently found themself sketching in the margins of notebooks. Finn’s expressions were just so big and exaggerated that she made the perfect subject to use as reference – or at least, Dakota tried to tell themself that.

With a brief catch-up out of the way, Dakota introduced Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa to Finn, who beamed at them and was quick to assist them into the cab of the train. She asked them not to touch anything as she was still going over her checklist. If Emmet and Ingo were excited before, they looked moments away from exploding as they watched Finn’s every move with laser focus. Their intensity was almost visible in the very air around them – that’s how focused they were.

“This is spectacular,” Ingo was forcing his voice to be lower in the small interior of the cab. Although the dashboard wasn’t nearly as complex as that of a steam engine, Ingo had to admire the sleek, minimalist look of the glossy screens and polished buttons. Ms. O’Finnegan took very good care of her cab. “Elesa, observe!”

Although she tried to do as Ingo asked, she found she just couldn’t keep up with the in-depth explanation that he launched into. She registered the words ‘throttle’ and ‘brakes,’ but admittedly not much else.

 Emmet nodding along and extending his hands in a fashion that reminded Elesa of those infomercials that she saw on the nights she found she couldn’t sleep. The ones where the jewelry always looked so sparkly and the women had even, unremarkable voices.

“What’s your route?”

Elesa asked, mildly impressed with the engine, but not nearly much as her friends.

“I’m taking her out toward Driftveil. Nice and easy for a newbie like me.”

Finn self-consciously scratched the back of her head and sheepishly laughed, sparing the young girl from the two boys who were looking at her dashboard bug-eyed. Dakota watched on with a fond smile, tucking a lock of their purple hair behind their ear while the engineer patiently listened to the lecture on her own equipment.

“She’s pretty.”

Elesa said, almost completely unprompted. Dakota’s face flushed a deep red and quickly turned away, but they couldn’t help but agree with her. They’ve had a crush on Finn for ages, and they were pretty sure the feelings were mutual, but they were too nervous to ask outright.

“Mmm,” was Dakota’s noncommittal hum as they felt a buzzing in their pocket.

Shit. Was it already that time?

“Well, this has been fun, but I’ve got a train to catch. Let’s go everyone. Say goodbye to Finn.”

“Thank you very much for letting us into the cab. This experience has been a dream of ours. Not only that, but it’s been a rather enlightening one!”

“Yep! Thank you verrrrrry much!”

“My pleasure. Oh, uh, Kota?

Dakota was already on the ground and helping Elesa down, trying not to look at their phone for the time.

“Yeah? Ow!”

For their part, they were too distracted to notice what Elesa clearly had – hence the sharp elbow to the side. Finn looked quite nervous as she stammered out her request. Lunch in Striaton. Clove’s restaurant and gym was delicious, or so she had heard, and she wanted Dakota to go with her to see if the rumors were true.

How could they say no?

They were glad they didn’t because Dakota wouldn’t have wanted to miss that expression for anything. The wrinkle of her freckle spattered nose, the glitter in her eyes like a brilliant diamond on a bed of moss, the small curve that shaped her lips in a clear indication of equal parts happiness and relief…

“I’ll see you on Saturday!”

Although they heard Elesa snickering, Emmet and Ingo were completely oblivious to their older companion’s stupefied expression, tottering back in the direction of the station with the three kids in tow. They appreciated Dakota’s patience and time this morning, they would not forget it when Lin was attempting to claw their eyes out when her trainer asked for help bathing her from whatever eventual trouble she would find herself in.

Last time she ended up in the roaming cart of the Casteliacone vendor, who was not too happy with the Purrloin trying to make off with his coin purse. The dried ice cream had ended up drying in clumps on her fur and Dakota had already been scored with their fair share of claw marks.

On the platform, they offered a wave before ducking into the train, the conductors on either end swiftly performed their final safety check before disappearing into the interior. The doors closed with a hiss, a bell rang out sharply, and the serpentine train jerked forward on its journey to the south.

Emmet and Ingo waved as it disappeared into the distance, both grinning in their own respective ways just as Elesa released a loud yawn that she had been attempting to hold back all morning. She loved to hang out with the twins, they were the only people in the whole region who seemed to understand her, but they woke her up at six in the morning. They woke her up even earlier than she had to be up for school.  Her full intention was to shut her blinds, clamber back into bed, and sleep until noon since there was no school today.

“I’m headed home, guys.”

Although disappointed, Emmet and Ingo seemed to understand, and even offered to escort her home, but Elesa declined. She loved her friends dearly, but she didn’t think she could absorb any more train facts. They went their separate ways, Emmet and Ingo absolutely unable to contain the excitement of being in different parts of the yard.

The twins had taken many train rides to and from Opelucid, but they had only ever been in the cab when the engine was silent and cold; to feel the rumble – no, the purr – of the engine was a dream come true. Watching the diesel come to life system by system, with the panel lighting up like a Christmas tree to indicate everything was ready and safe for travel… There was nothing like it.

“The turntable-”

“Yes, a little old-fashioned, as is the house, but I find that charming.”

“Yep! Charming!” Emmet said, smiling so much that his cheeks began to hurt while his hands flapped. “Ms. O’Finnegan’s cab was great. Verrrrry clean and well-maintained.”

“I would expect nothing less from an employee of UTrak.”

The standards for the major rail company in Unova were high, but that was because they wanted to offer top-notch services to their customers.

That was their dream – well, it was one of their dreams. Emmet and Ingo wanted to work as engineers with UTrak, but they also wanted to battle professionally. The professions didn’t exactly mesh, which the twins spent hours agonizing over whenever someone asked them what they wanted to be when they grew up.

The question usually ended up being so distressing because they were so torn that Emmet and Ingo became teary eyed with a frustration that they did not know how to verbalize, or at least how to verbalize it without adults minimizing their feelings.

Elesa understood. She had grandiose ideas for the future just like them, but Elesa still ended up being defensive about her hopes and dreams because adults didn’t seem to think they were practical.

It was then those questions arose that they fell back on to a familiar career that they had loved as long as they loved Pokémon battling. They would work for UTrak one day. That was a promise they made to themselves after mother asked them and, once they told her of their ambitions, she laughed. She was quick to stifle it and gently, or as gently as Kaita could manage, told them that she didn’t think her sons were cut out for it.

Well, Drayden had taken personal offense to this statement. Whether it was testament to his faith in his nephews’ abilities as Gray’s or because took it as slight from his sister and he wanted to prove her wrong, Emmet and Ingo were allowed to watch and read all sorts of supplemental information on Pokémon and battling.

It was thanks to Drayden and his pushing that they had their Pokémon so early. Sure, Emmet and Ingo really did want partners, but there were usually restrictions on that sort of thing. Drayden filled out all the necessary paperwork to permit early partners. Drayden always told them that if they put 100% of themselves into anything, he knew they could accomplish anything – just like him.

No matter how outlandish their ambitions – their uncle supported them.

“Ingo?”

“Yes, Emmet?”

“I am Emmet. I think to reach our dual goals, we must rethink our path.”

“You think?” Ingo asked with a tilt of his head, his frown deepening in thought. His brother nodded. Both knew Emmet was not suggesting abandonment of their goals, only a restructuring of how to reach them more efficiently. “I concur. I think its time we invest into research of the requirements to become engineers.”

“More school.”

Emmet said with a groan. Neither were particularly good in the classroom. They liked to learn, but both twins had a tendency to procrastinate on tasks that did not strike them as particularly interesting.

“Yes,” Ingo agreed. “However, I think we will find that schooling more enjoyable than what we are learning at the current moment.”

The older twin couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disdain, just at the thought of the teacher who got frustrated with him for using words that were “too advanced” for his age bracket. The other students were snickering when Ingo sank lower in his seat. Meanwhile, Emmet was called out for not being particularly vocal, while also told he was being too blunt when he expressed his opinions. He still flinched when someone brought up the art class incident where he made a girl, one of the popular ones, cry by telling her painting was “ugly” and that he preferred Elesa’s.

He didn’t just say that as her friend either, it was genuinely better, and he felt like he needed to point that out to everyone.

In higher education, they wouldn’t have to worry about all these issues. They could focus on their studies and excel because they weren’t being forced to do subjects that bored them to tears. They wouldn’t have to worry about upsetting anyone.

“Verrrrry enjoyable.”

Emmet agreed.

“Next time we encounter Dakota, we should ask them about their college.”

“Yep! Good idea!”

With that, Emmet and Ingo released Tynamo and Litwick respectively, Emmet lightly scratching the spot between the Electric type’s eyes and Ingo stooping down to scoop up the Fire type.

Took you long enough to take me back out.

Litwick harrumphed, suppressing a wiggle of delight she felt deep in her wax when Ingo drew her closer and gingerly modeled the wax out of her eye.

“Apologies, Litwick. Emmet and I were discussing the future.”

Sounds boring. What are we doing today?

She interrupted before he could get into the rhythm of conversation.

“Training.”

Emmet said, his focus was on the wriggling Pokémon butting into his hands, but his mind was elsewhere. In a future that had yet to be but seemed incredibly bright. 

[seat-safety-switch]

Flip-up headlights are basically the only thing that can reliably bring me joy in a car. 8500-rpm redline? Heated leather seats? Mid-engined twin-turbocharged V8? Yeah, those are nice and all – but have you seen how this thing looks like a weird frog when I push this button?

The thing about cars is that they were never meant to be taken seriously. Sure, they were originally developed for rich people to use to run over poor people with. Then they became race cars, and racers are very serious about everything except for the survival of the car (and sometimes themselves.) After that, though, they became proletarian transport. With that accessibility came genuine fun. You can’t do a four-alarm burnout with a horse, and if you tried, you’d probably end up going to jail because of the horse police.

So, anything that can increase the amount of fun you’re having with a car is great, especially if you don’t have to burn fuel, brake pads, and oil to do it. And flip-up headlights qualify. They’re fun even when the car is turned off. They make the car look either super-sleek, aerodynamic, futuristic, or... goofy. The designers picked up on this duality, and they often add wacky transitions to draw attention to the party piece.

Sure, they’re not that great for pedestrians, so don’t hit any. Their utility in the unimportant field of “being able to see” are in question. Big deal. That’s why they have 80s-style rally lightbars, which also look a little bit goofy, and tell everyone around you (especially the cops) that you are not a serious race car driver. Those folks would never put such an aerodynamic limiter on their exotic lap-killing machine.

[gigivas]

1K GIGI Prompts Collections 'Glistening Lamborghini: Monochrome Elegance in Motion' 5624 Free 10 pages out of 1000 pages

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[wheelsgoroundincircles]

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟔 𝐀𝐌𝐂 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝟑𝟐𝟕

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟔 𝐀𝐌𝐂 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝟑𝟐𝟕

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟔 𝐀𝐌𝐂 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝟑𝟐𝟕

The 1966 AMC Marlin 327 is a distinctive fastback coupe, blending style and performance with a unique design that set it apart from other cars of its era. Produced by American Motors Corporation (AMC), the Marlin was known for its bold, sweeping roofline and sporty appearance. Under the hood, the 1966 model came equipped with a 327 cubic inch (5.4-liter) V8 engine, providing up to 270 horsepower, which delivered strong performance and made it competitive in the muscle car market.

The Marlin's design emphasized a sleek, aerodynamic profile, with a long hood, fastback rear, and wide stance. Inside, it offered a comfortable and well-appointed interior with seating for four and a focus on driver comfort. The 1966 AMC Marlin 327 was part of AMC’s effort to compete with larger automakers, offering something unique for buyers who wanted both performance and a standout design. Today, it remains a rare and sought-after classic.

[autotopic]

1964 Iso Bizzarini A3C

Following his heated departure from Ferrari in 1961, Giotto Bizzarrini who aided in the design and development of the Ferrari 250 series, including the fabled GTO, was hired by Renzo Rivolta to develop a new GT car. However, Bizzarrini’s aspirations were to create a competitive race car. The Iso Grifo A3/C would be the fruits of his labour – a powerful Chevrolet V8, sleek aerodynamics and near perfect weight distribution combined creating a competitive entrant for both the Nürburgring and at Le Mans.

Produced in 1964 Chassis B-0215 (D) – the (D) denoting right hand drive, is the example offered. It is one of the original riveted aluminium cars built by Drogo and the records declare that 0215 was red with a black interior.

More unique still, is that 0215 is the only right hand drive riveted aluminium example with a period competition history. Upon delivery to the first owner in 1965 – Derek Wharton (UK) 0215 was entered into the 1965 Autosport GT Championship at Oulton Park. Then he would compete in the Leinster Trophy at Dunboyne in Ireland later that year.

source: fiskens.com

[freakyavrgg]

I think I'm depressed.. could you help me?

No problem! Here’s the information about the Mercedes CLR GTR:

The Mercedes CLR GTR is a remarkable racing car celebrated for its outstanding performance and sleek design. Powered by a potent 6.0-liter V12 engine, it delivers over 600 horsepower. 🔧

Acceleration from 0 to 100 km/h takes approximately 3.7 seconds, with a remarkable top speed surpassing

320 km/h. 🏅

Incorporating advanced aerodynamic features and cutting-edge stability technologies, the CLR GTR ensures exceptional stability and control, particularly during high-speed maneuvers. 💨

Originally priced around $1.5 million, the Mercedes CLR GTR is considered one of the most exclusive and prestigious racing cars ever produced. 💰

Its limited production run of just five units adds to its rarity, making it highly sought after by racing enthusiasts and collectors worldwide. 🌎

[ultimate-character-design]

The Ultimate Character Design Tournament

Please remember to vote for characters solely based on their design, rather than which character you are more familiar with or like more!

Anthy Himemiya | Revolutionary Girl Utena

Toothless | How To Train Your Dragon

"these are all from How To Train Your Dragon 1, where is design is on point.

look at his patterns! so beautiful! so wild!

his sleek, aerodynamic frame

his ears!! his nubs!!

Is this not a gorgeous dragon design? Is he not… ADORABLE??"

[underworld-park-offical]

TOLKIEN: Zzzzzzzzrzrzrzrrzzzz

TOLKIEN: Zzazzazazezezezezezrzrzzrrzrrr

PHONE: ♪ I'M A BARBIE GIRL ♪

PHONE: ♪ IN THE BARBIE WORLD ♪

PHONE: ♪ LIFE IN PLASTIC ♪

PHONE: ♪ IT'S FANTASTIC ♪

TOLKIEN: Huhhheheehdbfd…

TOLKIEN: Huh

TOLKIEN: What

TOLKIEN: What the fuck?

TOLKIEN: Why is my phone going off?

TOLKIEN: Are the fucking queers calling me again?

TOLKIEN: Eeeeyup its them

TOLKIEN: What

GARY: Have you ever been beaten by a wet spaghetti noodle by your girlfriend cuz she has a twin sister and you got confused and fucked her dad, well that’s how it feels to drive a Ford F-250. That sounds really cool. But you know what else is cool? The new 2020 Ford F-150, winner of 10 J.D. power awards. Perfect for hauling big things and going long distances. But you want to go offroad? Try the new Raptor Edition, which cannot just go offroad, it is perfect for going extreme off-roading. You can go rock climbing or across a desert, really quickly. It is also good for the great American thing - BBQs! In fact, you can haul MORE than one oven! That's pretty cool, huh? So hurry, and buy the new 2020 Ford F-150, now for sale at your local Ford dealership. RED: Wgat RED: Stop RED: Stop speaking BEBE: Girl get the tape from the backseat RED: Already on it NICHOLE: Heyyyy Tolkien NICHOLE: Did I wake you?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: No..

NICHOLE: Oh NICHOLE: That’s  NICHOLE: That's good

TOLKIEN: What's going on

NICHOLE: So uhm NICHOLE: Ahahaha NICHOLE: Funny story

TOLKIEN: Nichole what did you do??

TOLKIEN: Did you fuckin

TOLKIEN: Commit fraud?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: Again?

NICHOLE: What NICHOLE: No NICHOLE: Of course not NICHOLE: I am a law abiding citizen NICHOLE: Except for when it comes to the Barbie Movies

TOLKIEN: Okay? We’ve all  pirated a Barbie Movie

TOLKIEN: What makes you special?

TOLKIEN: If it's not fraud or piracy what did you even do

NICHOLE: There’s a sentient advertisement in our Porsche now

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: Excuse me?

NICHOLE: Yeah uh NICHOLE: We saw Gary NICHOLE: Or G-4R-Y if you wanna use his actual name? NICHOLE: Fuck I don't know anymore NICHOLE: He was walking in the cold for some reason? NICHOLE: And you know how he only speaks in ads?

TOLKIEN: We all do

BEBE: Wait BITCH do you think we could reprogram him to be like

BEBE: An ALEXA???

GARY: Need some music for that impromptu dance off? Ask Alexa to play songs or playlists from Prime Music and Spotify so you're always ready to show off your sweet moves-if that's what you call them ;) "Amazon Echo: Alec Baldwin and Missy Elliott Dance Party Commercial" via @popisms :https://www.popisms.com/TelevisionCommercial/126873/Amazon-Echo-Commercial-2016 GARY: I really don't want you to see me like this. You need some entrance music. Alexa, play Alex dance playlist. Playing Alex playlist. That's dance music? Alexa, play Pep Rally by Missy Elliott. Really? Perfect! I got a little something for you. It's beautiful. Does this mean I'm gonna be in your next video? Let me see what you got. (Lyrics) Anything you want me to (Lyrics) Pep rally, pep rally, pep rally Oh, this a pep rally Pep rally, pep rally, pep rally Bounce, biggity bounce, biggity-biggity bounce, bounce Where my clappers that stomp? Now rock with it Bounce, biggity bounce, biggity-biggity bounce via @popisms : https://www.popisms.com/TelevisionCommercial/126873/Amazon-Echo-Commercial-2016 GARY: I’m Gary! The Mormon who advertises! RED: I mean RED: I’ll become a mechanic if it gets him to stfu 💀💀💀 WENDY: No- RED- NO PUT THE WRENCH DOWN! RED: FUCK YOU GARY: The future. You used to chase it. Now you’re living in it. The Wavefront is an all-electric automobile that propels driving into a new era. With sleek, aerodynamic design, and ultrasonic sensors that prevent collisions, there’s no more getting left behind. Life’s short. Drive fast.  GARY: I’m Gary! The Mormon who advertises! RED: SHUT THE FUCK UP!! WENDY: RED!! NO!! BEBE: GIRLY POPS AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU BEBE: I'M GONNA HIT A DEER IF YOU ALL DONT HUSH RED: WENDY LET ME GO I'M GONNA KILL HIM WENDY: WE ARE NOT KILLING THE AD NICHOLE: SHUT THE FUCK UP IM ON THE PHONE BEBE: SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M DRIVING!!!! RED: CAN I THROW HIM OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR??!?!?!?!?!? WENDY AND NICHOLE: NO!!! NICHOLE: Tolkien I'm gonna have to let you go NICHOLE: We might die- NICHOLE: RED PUT DOWN THE WRENCH YOU'RE GONNA KILL SOMEONE! RED: THAT'S THE GOAL!! GARY: As a parent, I want to know that my kids are safe wherever they are. That includes riding in the car. With the new Carpool Optic from Solar I can breathe easy knowing my kids will arrive where they need to safely – whether I am the driver or not. RED: AUGHHHH!!!!!! NICHOLE: I’m hanging up now NICHOLE: MMMMMMMMMOKAYBYE

TOLKIEN: Bye?

(Beep Beep Beep)

TOLKIEN: Jesus christ

TOLKIEN: (Yawn)

TOLKIEN: Man

KENNY: Hey

TOLKIEN: Ah!

TOLKIEN: Oh my god I got jumpscared by a fucking queer!

KENNY: Oh hardy har har har

KENNY: You got games on yo phone?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: What

KENNY: Do you got games

KENNY: On yo phone

TOLKIEN: I mean like

TOLKIEN: I got like

TOLKIEN: Subway surfers??

TOLKIEN: If

TOLKIEN: If that works???

TOLKIEN: Uh

TOLKIEN: Ok?????

TOLKIEN: Here

KENNY: Thanks

KENNY: Oh yeah, can I call my sister while I play subway surfers?

KENNY: I gotta make sure she’s not

KENNY: Yknow

KENNY: Fuckin’ dead

TOLKIEN: No you’re gonna kill my damn battery

TOLKIEN: Just call your sister you dont need to play fucking subway surfers

KENNY: Fine

KENNY: Killjoy

TOLKIEN: Ugh

KAREN: I can't believe McDonald's served me that lukewarm fucking patty 

KAREN: And then had the AUDACITY to tell me KAREN: That it gets cold over time!?!?

KAREN: I think they just undercooked it ON PURPOSE to make ME look like an idiot

TRICIA: Damn, that's crazy

(🎵 KAREN METAL 🎵 )

KAREN: OH MY GOD

KAREN: WHO'S CALLING ME AT EXACTLY 1:59 IN THE MORNING?!?!?

TRICIA: Bro just say 2 AM 💀

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: I can’t believe I just said that out loud

KAREN: WHAT?!?!?

KENNY: Hi

KAREN: WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME?!?!?

KAREN: DO YOU KNOW HOW LATE IT IS?!?!?!

KAREN: I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER

KENNY: Sis it's me

KAREN: UGHHHHH

KAREN: You missed your nail appointment

KENNY: Shiiiit that was today?

KAREN: You still owe me the money for it

KENNY: … KENNY: Karen, we don't have money, we’re poor

KAREN: Get a job

KENNY: …I do have a job

KAREN: Okay so then you have money?

KENNY: No

KAREN: That doesn't make sense

KENNY: Anyways- KENNY: You alive?

KAREN: Clearly

KENNY: Okay cool KENNY: So uh KENNY: There's demons around, I hope they find you and kill you and you die bye

KAREN: …What?

KAREN: Tricia do you know what the fuck he’s talking about?

TRICIA: No

TRICIA: Also stop calling on speakerphone

TRICIA: You remind me of my brother (derogatorily) 

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: WHY DO I KEEP DOING THAT!?!??!

TRICIA: UGHHH

TRICIA: I’m gonna go yell at my brother by cursing me into the influencer gene pool

TRICIA: You wanna come?

KAREN: If I get to yell at someone, of course

TRICIA: Be-

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: I'm not even gonna say that 

CRAIG: Who the fuck where you talking to

CRAIG: I feel like they were talking shit smh my head

KENNY: Oh just my bitch sister and your bitch sister

KENNY: Told her she was gonna die soon

CRAIG: LMAOOOO I’m dead 💀💀💀

KENNY: Lol it was funny she was so mad

TOLKIEN: I swear to god you guys are the same person sometimes

CRAIG: Smh my head no literally untrue

KENNY: Common Tolkien L

TOLKIEN: I want you both dead

CRAIG: …

KENNY: …

TRICIA: Okay where tf is blud

TRICIA: I'm gonna kill his ass

KAREN: Ugh

KAREN: He probably set up Kenny to fucking prank us

KAREN: Going to yell at them both when we find them

TRICIA: For real

TRICIA: Smh my fucking head

TRICIA: OH MY GOD CAN I STOP DOING THAT!?!?

KAREN: There's his door

KAREN: Should I kick it down?

TRICIA: No he will literally kill me

TRICIA: Instead we’re gonna go in his room

TRICIA: Steal all his shit

TRICIA: And fucking burn it

KAREN: Ohh yay! Property damage! My favorite!

TRICIA: Shhh shhh shhhh

TRICIA: Stfu

TRICIA: He’ll hear us

KAREN: No

KAREN: You're not the boss of me

TRICIA: Okay

TRICIA: On three

TRICIA: One- Two-

KAREN: THREE

KAREN: Ew it's so dark in here

KAREN: It smells like fucking Ccool Ranch Doritos in here

TRICIA: Shut the fuck up

TRICIA: He’s gonna hear you

TRICIA: I know where he keeps his Supreme hoodies

TRICIA: HOOOOOLY SHIT IS THAT A DEAD BODY!??!?!?!?

KAREN: AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

KAREN: WE ARE GONNA DIE

KAREN: GET THE MANAGER!!

TRICIA: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE KILLER COULD STILL BE HERE YOU QUEERMO

GREGORY AND ESTELLA: Shhhhh he eepy

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

KAREN AND TRICIA: AAAAAAAAAAA-

TRICIA: Okay

TRICIA: HAILLLL NAWHHHHH

KAREN: I’m calling the police

TRICIA: That is the smartest thing you could ever do

KAREN: Hello? 911?

KAREN: Hi yeah, there's some queers in our house

KAREN: Please come

KAREN: Bye

(Edits made by @pissblanket and @cattpup5)